


A Thing for Him

by snowkatze



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M, Vampires, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 15:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14192271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowkatze/pseuds/snowkatze
Summary: Simon gets attacked by a vampire and Baz comes to his rescue.





	A Thing for Him

I think the most surprising thing about seeing another vampire for the first time is that he isn't beautiful at all. His face is gray, and looks like it's made of marble, or like it could fall to ashes at any time. He doesn't look like Dracula at all, there is nothing classic about him. I always thought vampires had unnatural beauty, no, supernatural beauty, as if they were the only ones who knew the cheat code in a Sims game. He's not beautiful, but he's not particularly ugly either. His face is almost blank, void of emotion. There's no story behind it.

He looks nothing like Baz. He's not half as handsome. His face isn't sharp, just empty. The only thing they have in common is how pale their skin is.

I always imagined all vampires were like Baz, but they're not. It is actually quite the disappointment. I think Baz ruined vampires for me.

I always thought I had a thing for them. Vampires. I thought it was a stupid obsession, vampires are cool and mysterious (even though I knew that they weren't at all). I thought I had a thing for them. (He doesn't even have a widow's peak.)

But if it's not true – if it's just Baz – then that means I was wrong. I don't have a thing for vampires. I just have a thing for Baz. No. Fuck. Of course I don't. Fuck this vampire for not looking beautiful. _Fuck_.

This really shouldn't mean so much. But maybe I was just fooling myself.

(He's so beautiful.)  
Maybe vampires aren't designed for seduction, maybe it's just... him.

(Gosh, he's beautiful.)

And that means that I am royally screwed.

But right now, that should be the least of my problems.

“Chosen One,” the vampire snarls and bares his fangs at me. It doesn't look the least bit cool – it only twists his face. I gulp when I realize that I should be a lot more afraid right now. He could snap my neck in an instant, after all – but having shared a room with Basilton Pitch for years, he only seems like a sad joke to me.

I look around – I could escape through the entrance of the alley, but then he would escape, too, and I can't let that happen. He is dangerous, he might hurt someone. And I will never be able to walk away from that.

I call for the Sword of Mages and lunge at him. The vampire is quick and reacts fast – his skills are inhumane. He rushes past me and I turn around, but I'm no match for him – he has stabbed me with a small pocket knife before I've fully turned to him. My vision goes blurry and the pain fogs my brain. I try to strike him with my sword, but I only scratch his arm. _Fuck_. Fuck. He can't have hit anything vital, but I might be bleeding too much.  
I can't let this distract me. I should just keep going (always keep going) and go for it. I always choose force over strategy anyway and hope for the best. Even though the pain seems overwhelming, I've been through far worse before.

The vampire doesn't seem unaffected either – the smell of blood must be getting to his head. If I go lucky, he will lose control and become reckless.

I swing the sword and manage to cut him a little deeper, just below his rips. I try a few more times, but I'm weakened and he's too fast for me. I'm panting by the time he has ripped the sword out of my hands. I try to call for it again, but he's beside me before I can say a word.

“You're not putting up much of a fight, Simon Snow,” he grins.

I can feel his breath on my neck and think that I just should have run.

No.

I wouldn't have run.

I'm thinking if I should say something – my last chance to say something meaningful. I try to think of something in the matter of a second, before he has the chance to bite.

“Baz...” I whisper. (Not the worst last word to say, I think.)

His is the last face I was ever supposed to see. He is the vampire who was supposed to finish me. I close my eyes and picture him. Stunningly grey eyes, smooth black hair. He's about to bite me. I take in a shaky breath, and I might be disturbed, but the thought of dying at his hands comforts me.

My imagination is so good, I can almost smell cedar and bergamot. No, wait. I can really smell it.  
Suddenly, something hits me and I am knocked down on the floor.

I scramble to my knees immediately.

Baz is here. I try to make sense of the scene in front of me – he's fighting the vampire. They're rolling around on the ground, it's like they're wrestling. Why would Baz fight the vampire? They're supposed to be allies, aren't they?  
Then I rush forward, try to pull the vampire off of Baz. Baz manages to stumble backwards. Now It's two against one. Or is it? I'm still not sure whose side Baz is on. But he looks at me, sneers at me, and I feel my heart beat quicken.

“Run, Snow,” he shouts. “I'll fend him off.”  
“I – no.”  
“Don't be a fucking idiot for once in your life and go, for Crowley's sake,” he hisses and pulls out his wand out of his back pocket to start casting spells against the vampire.

He wants me to leave.

I can't. Even if I wanted to, my legs won't obey my orders and move. I won't turn my back on Baz now.

I pick up my sword and has cast “ _ **Slow down**_ ” on the vampire, so now he is only slightly quicker than a normal guy. But he throws himself at Baz with his whole body and I'm thinking that they will strangle each other.

I have to stop him. I want to stab the guy, but he and Baz are moving so fast, I couldn't make sure I wouldn't accidentally hurt Baz. I feel the magic prickling beneath my skin, and the air around me grows hotter as I get more desperate. There's nothing I can do – and I – I have to do something.

I feel like I'll go off any second. And I won't be able to protect Baz. Suddenly, the vampire lets go off Baz and he stares straight at me. There is fear in his eyes. The magic goes in waves off of me and I try to keep it in.

Then, the vampire makes a run for it – I should be glad that he's afraid of me going off, but so am I. I might still go off. I'm losing control. It's the thought of Baz getting hurt that makes me go insane.

He told me to run. 

Why?

Why would he tell me to run? Why would he come to save me? Why would he – what if he – I almost died. He saved me, but he was supposed to kill me. I don't understand anything any more – that was the one thing I could always rely on and now it's gone – and I can't – I can't.

Suddenly, there is a hand on my shoulder. I'm breathing so quickly, and I can't see.

“Simon,” he says and I lift my head. Baz. He's alive. He's fine. He didn't hurt him.

“Breathe, Simon,” he mutters softly. Crowley, I never knew he could speak so softly.

“Let it go, slowly,” he says. His skin is so pretty, flawlessly pretty.

“You can do this,” he adds. He saved me. Aleister Crowley. I feel my magic go calm and I feel like it's going to be okay – I'm going to be okay.

He feels it, too, so he lets go of me and we sit together on the ground, breathing heavily. His skin is bruised and his hair is ruffled up, but he's still perfect. Not vampire-perfect. Just Baz-perfect. And it takes my breath away.

“Why the hell didn't you run?” he asks and frowns at me.

I shrug.

“Seriously, Snow. What were you thinking? Did you really think you could still get him?”  
“No – I just – I just wanted to...”  
I think about it for a moment.

“I wanted to save you.”  
He barks out a bitter laugh.

“You're one to talk. You throw yourself into danger within a heartbeat – I was saving _you_ , get it?”  
“But... why?”  
He laughs again, this time a little more maniacally. 

“You have no idea, Snow.”

“I – I don't understand. I – You were going to kill me.”  
“Was I, now?”  
“You always said so. And you've tried before. Why would you – why would you save me? It doesn't make sense.”  
“Don't worry, Snow. I won't ruin your victory when the time comes. I'll still fight you. And you can pretend I didn't let you win.”  
“W-what?”  
He stands up, and looks at me, absolutely exhausted.

“I would tell you to be more careful, but I know you won't listen anyway. Take care of that wound, will you?”  
Then he turns to leave, but I'm at my feet in an instant, even though my wound still hurts.

“What is that supposed to mean?”  
He sighs exasperatedly.

“Forget about it.”  
“I can't.”  
“Seriously, Snow, let me leave.”  
He looks at me sharply and I realize that the blood must be driving him mad. But I can't let him leave.

“What do you mean, you'd let me win?”  
“Snow. Let it go.”  
“No.”  
“Gosh, you're stubborn. Fine. The truth is that I don't want you dead. Happy?”  
“But would you... let me kill you?”  
He just looks at me and says nothing.

“I don't want to hurt you, Baz,” I whisper.

“You have to, though. Don't worry. I won't take it personally.”  
How can he talk so casually about his own death? It makes me want to punch something.

“No. I'm not going to kill you.”  
“You say that now.”  
“I promise, okay? Can we do that? I promise I won't kill you. I won't hurt you at all.”  
“I don't think that's possible...”  
He tries to leave again, but I grab his arm.

“Please, promise me, Baz.”  
“Crowley, Snow, of course I won't hurt you. Haven't I made that clear enough already? I almost died to save you, isn't that proof enough?”  
“Good. So we won't fight each other.”  
“Sure. Whatever you say, Snow.”  
“You don't sound like you believe that.”  
He rolls his eyes.

“How could I?”  
I'm growing angry at him. How can he be so calm? I just want him to stay save.

“I'll prove it to you,” I say resolutely.

“Prove it?”

He sneers at me.

“You can't possibly -”

I cut him off by grabbing him by his hair and crashing my lips into his. He goes completely still beneath me, but I hold onto him. I dig my fingers into his hair, I want to know that he's alive. But he still doesn't respond to me. I step back, thinking suddenly that I have made a terrible mistake, but then he grabs my arm and drags me back to him.

We kiss each other desperately, but he is still being really soft. It's a promise. I won't kill him – I tilt my chin. He won't kill me – he pushes his tongue against my lips. I tug him closer.

We won't fight each other – we'll just do this instead. And Crowley, he's good at it.

I won't let him die, and I won't turn my back on him.

I take his face in both of my hands. (It's a promise to save him.)

 


End file.
